“It doesn’t matter if it was good. Or if it was the best damn thing I’ve ever felt. Or if I want to feel it every night over and over. I can’t risk Belle,” he grates out.
“I know,” I admit softly. Because, darn it, I do. If he were a smooth operator who was only interested in hitting it with the nanny and didn’t care that it could hurt his daughter, I wouldn’t respect him as much. Darn him for being so sexyandso principled. It’s my kryptonite.
“I know, and you’re right,” I repeat. “But it sucks.”
I’m not sure, but I think his chin dips in agreement. I want more.
“Say it after me. It sucks,” I repeat. I need him to agree. Words of affirmation and all.
He shakes his head, and that right corner of his lip that I know and love tilts up. “You’re impossible.”
“Be that as it may, say it.”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “It sucks.”
“It does, right?” I say. “But we’re going to be strong for Belle. We’re not going to do this anymore. Not kiss. Not touch. Not anything. Because we don’t want to hurt her, and you’re the boss and I’m the nanny. Even though I really, really want to.” I bite my lip to stop the flow of words before I drop more truth bombs.
He lets out a slow, controlled breath. Then another. And a third.
“Are you doing deep breathing exercises?”
He ignores my question. “I’m going upstairs. Before—” He doesn’t elaborate. Just stares at me for another long moment, turns in one swift movement, and then strides toward the stairs.
I stare after him, long after he’s gone.
I’ve done it. The thought steals my breath. Shit, my fear came true. I’ve fallen for the Sexiest Man Alive, my boss, who is completely unattainable and barely has time for his daughter. When he leaves in mere weeks, I’ll have to pick all the crushed pieces of my heart off the floor.
Of all the stupid things I could have gone and done.
CHAPTER18
14 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS
Poppy
In retrospect,I think Ronan was lying when he said I didn’t have a problem in the hookup department.
Otherwise, why would he, the morning after we made out for all we’re worth, have banished me for two entire days and nights from the house?
Okay. In reality, there’s no banishment. It’s more like he gave me a mini-holiday. But it feels a little like it. The next morning, he overheard me telling Sadie how much I still had left to do to plan my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary on Friday.
When I got off the phone, Ronan said that I’d been working too hard for him and that I should take a few days off so I could spend some time with my family. He all but packed my bags and pushed me out the door to go to my mom and dad’s.
He told me to do what I needed, and that he and Belle would see me on Friday night. Because of course they were invited to my parents’ party. My mother wouldn’t have it any other way.
I didn’t think I would miss being away from Ronan and Belle so much. Since he’s been home more lately, I’ve grown attached to our small rituals. Belle has been soaking up all his time and attention. So have I.
When he hasn’t had an early call time, we’ve eaten breakfast together. Well, Belle and I eat breakfast, and Ronan drinks whatever horrid concoction he mixes up for himself. He even eats dinner with us when he can. Though he tells me not to bother, that he can have his delivery meals, I try to find recipes he can eat. I replace his pasta with zucchini “noodles” and his rice with cauliflower, while Belle and I eat the real deal.
I’ve become addicted to that tilt of his lips when I do small things for him. And sometimes he gazes around the house after dinner, when everything is soft and quiet, when the tree is lit, the fire is set, the lights are low. When Belle is giggling and I’m laughing. And he gets this expression I can’t quite name but very much want to.
But my parents’ anniversary party is finally—at long last—in full swing. Every balloon has been blown up. Every banner hung. The three-tier cake is bought. The table laid. The drinks are iced and the buffet of food is set out. Kids are playing and guests are mingling.
All that’s left is for Ronan and Belle to show.God,I hope they show.
I still feel awkward after our hot encounter, and he likely does as well. Maybe he thought time apart would cool things down. But time away has only made me miss and appreciate them both all the more.
The doorbell rings, and I sprint toward the door, almost knocking over my great-aunt Maria.
